


After hours

by Lame_Writer



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: After Hours, Anxiety, Blood, Fear, Flashes, Implied Death, Injury, Mentions of TeruTeru’s mother, Nighttime, Panic, Visions, horror themes, possible future, slight gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:20:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22987030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lame_Writer/pseuds/Lame_Writer
Kudos: 5





	After hours

It was closing time, instead of his mother doing it he would always insist on doing so - saying it would help her relax after ‘today was such a hard day’. He enjoyed closing up when the darkness of the night moved around the orange hue glow of the street lights nearby. The silence as no cars passed at this hour of the night, the only sounds were from him and the wind. 

Twisting and shutting the door locked he finally flipped around the closed sign, letting out a tired yawn until his mind flashed to an unidentifiable woman dead on the ground, no description on where but she was clouded with darkness in the background. His heart stopped as he jumped back, now away from the door. His heart pounded as sweat beaded his forehead, he stared at the door expecting the same to happen again, but it never did. He calmed down his jagged breaths but his mind edged at the thought of who that might be - he seemed anxious about if it were one of his family members, but even from such a brief glance he knew it wasn’t mama.

With the slightest relief he started to walk to the back into the kitchen, confused when the door was locked. 

‘Strange could’ve sworn I’d have kept it unlocked.’ He thought to himself, giving one more turn and a shove to the obstacle to prove futile. When he pulled away his hand, it felt hotter - as if he’d touch a hot stove for a moment before quickly pulling away, he felt the burning, feverish pain increase - he turned his hand around to see an open wound that was deep enough that he should’ve been able to see it from the back of his palm, the liquid that trickled down in masses caused his eyes to water, his lungs gripped with an iron grip and his body to go numb from shock. He wanted to scream, he wanted to yell at the top of his lungs, to get some help or even help himself, but he couldn’t his body was planted in place like cement around his feet and his clammy body’s only moving it could make was the trembling it produced. 

The second he turned his hand around in panic, the feeling stopped. He felt confusion and relief as he turned his palm around to see nothing there - no wound or scar, no blood, nothing. He took a moment to calm down his shallow breaths and trembling body as he held onto the counter nearby, hearing his heart beat pounding throughout his ears. 

“It’s ok, see ? Nothing there - just get to bed, you’re probably just - just tired.” He panted to himself, the grip was light and cautious to avoid any actual wound to creep up on him again. After a few minutes passed an the silence cradled him into a semi-calm state, he got back up and opened the now unlocked door, going inside and shutting it behind him. His assumption was his mind was playing tricks on him as it usually would, skipping the rest of his routine besides changing and checking on mama and going straight to bed,even when his body was comfortable on the bed he couldn’t sleep. The moments replayed in his head over and over again, trying to process who and what happened only a few short moments ago. Maybe a warning in the future of what’s to come ? He would never know until then.


End file.
